Watching
by trixie4
Summary: Omi develops a new routine once Weiss breaks up - suggestive Omi/Aya


title: Watching  
  
author: trixie  
  
disclaimer: i only own the dvds, i don't own the boys.  
  
summary: Omi develops a new routine once Weiss breaks up.  
  
warning: shounen ai Omi/Aya  
  
this could be a sequel to Dangerous Comfort, which can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=740747 or not. depends on whether you liked that or not. ^_~ This takes place after episode 15, when Weiss breaks up, and before ep 16. Some details may be fudged a little here, but it's all in the name of fic. ^_^  
  
(small note - there's a batman version of this fic, as there was a batman version of dangerous comfort. again, just throwing that in there in case anyone were by some outstanding circumstance to trip upon both, it isn't plagiarism. i just use different pen names for batman and nonbatman fics.)  
  
~*~  
  
Omi was in position with more than three minutes to spare. He didn't keep any records that might be considered incriminating, even electronic ones, but he knew the schedule by heart. There was an eight and a half minute window before his target would come into view, so he had plenty of time to set up the telephoto lens.  
  
Not that he had any pictures. Not any real ones. If he had any, and they were discovered, there would be trouble, pure and simple. Instead, he memorized the images in his head, and when he needed them, they were there in perfect clarity for him to dwell on every detail.  
  
Aya never disappointed him. No, *Ran* never disappointed him. Five minutes after Omi was in position on the roof overlooking the window to Aya Fujimiya's hospital room, his target came into view. The girl slept peacefully inside, appearing to Omi to be waiting for her brother just as he was.  
  
Aya - Ran - was wearing his red t-shirt with the grey-blue overshirt today. This was only slightly out of the usual pattern, as he normally wore the red t-shirt about 30% of the time, tending to cycle it slightly less frequently than his more faded t-shirts. He also tended to wear the red t- shirt after he wore the blue t-shirt, or the long-sleeved pale grey t- shirt. Yesterday, he wore a white t-shirt and a black overshirt, but that wasn't completely out of the pattern. After all, it was just probabilities.  
  
Omi liked the red shirt. It should have looked strange next to Aya's - *Ran's* - red hair, but it looked good. Of course, Omi thought that Aya - Ran - looked good in all of his clothes.  
  
Aya's visits - Omi tried to remind himself that it was Ran - to his sister were practically ritual. He stood next to the bed, his fists at his side, and stared down at her. Eventually, usually within four minutes, although it could take as long as eight minutes, he would sit gingerly on the side of the bed. He would touch her hand, as if he were afraid to wake her. After that, he might touch her black hair, or straighten her nightgown. Rarely, he would touch her face.  
  
Omi sighed as he watched the brother and sister together. His whole chest ached and ached. Ever since Miss Ouka had been killed, he had felt as if he might never again know what it was like to have someone really love him. Of course, his uncle had cared for him, but his uncle had been so concerned with the missions as well. Miss Ouka had loved him entirely. It had been the happiest moment in his life to find out she was his sister. He had only the vaguest of memories of his family. He only really remembered his father refusing to pay his ransom. But in those few, too few seconds in which he had held Miss Ouka as his sister, he knew what it was like to be *connected* to someone.  
  
It wasn't fair to stalk Aya like this. Or Ran, whatever. He knew it was wrong, and he tried to stop himself, but it wasn't working. Every day, he tried to tell himself that he needed to leave Aya alone, and every day, he followed according to the schedule anyway.  
  
He didn't go to school anymore. Maybe he would start again next trimester, he couldn't tell at this point. It had been beyond easy to convince the school administration that he needed to take his classes by correspondence. He had shed real tears and told them that he had lost his sister, his uncle, and his father in the space of the last month. Naturally, that was all true, although the loss of his father had little impact on him. He already had the highest grades in class, anyway, so it was hardly a trouble.  
  
The schedule was simple. Morning exercises at five, working on the construction site, a light lunch, usually salad. More work, then he would go to visit his sister. Afterwards, he would go to the beach, staring out to the water for long intervals of at least four minutes generally after two to five minutes of walking. He was always home before nine, read historical novels and watched news programs until eleven, and then went to bed.  
  
Omi didn't want to intrude on his privacy. In truth, he didn't want to know every detail of Aya's life. He didn't want to know how often he did laundry, or how often he went to the grocery store, or which brand of dishwasher detergent he preferred. But Aya meant so much to him, too much to him.  
  
He always had.  
  
Omi could remember the first moment he had met Aya, Manx introducing them. Omi had stood awkwardly shuffling his feet as Aya had remained impassive, his arms across his chest. Omi had been afraid of Aya, until the tall man had lowered his arms, relaxing his expression as he reached out a hand to Omi. It had been terrifying to reach out and place his hand in Aya's, and it seemed to Omi that it took forever to do it, but when their palm touched, it had been.  
  
It was a childish memory, but Aya had seemed so flawless and admirable, Omi couldn't help the flush of warmth that spilled through him at the memory.  
  
Aya had been the cool strength Omi had needed to stay focused when he was learning to put darts through people's throats. Aya's approval meant everything.  
  
Aya's fingers picked up his sister's long hair, and Omi shuddered in response.  
  
How long Omi had loved Aya was irrelevant. What mattered was that Aya was the only connection he had any more.  
  
It was wrong to follow him, to study him, to watch him from afar. He needed to stop, to get on with his life, but.  
  
Omi promised Aya every night as he said goodnight from afar that it would be the last night, and every morning he apologized from afar for following for another night.  
  
It wouldn't hurt so much, except that Omi was afraid that he would never really 'see' Aya again. They would never work together, and they would never associate again. When he stared at the ceiling in the pre-dawn hours and thought about never being with Aya again, the pain was too great, and he had to get up and go through the schedule.  
  
Perhaps with time he would be strong enough to go through life without Aya, but he didn't see how he could. Perhaps in time, Omi would find the courage to reach out and possibly contact Aya directly, but he wasn't hopeful that Aya would welcome any correspondence any time soon.  
  
He carefully packed up his lenses, securing them in his case with tender care before getting up, ready to precede Aya to the next item in the schedule.  
  
He paused to look at Aya - the real Aya, Ran's sister - for a moment before he stepped down. He prayed, as he did every morning, to a god whose name was unknown to him, that she would wake up.  
  
That would make Ran so happy.  
  
~*~  
  
end 


End file.
